Crystal Drops and Hawks
by SilentStream
Summary: Alyda joins up with Tara and begins to make a home for herself at the Institute, however grudgingly she may feel about it. R&R! Only K except for the last chapter.
1. Chapter 1

Well, this is officially the last editting that I'm going to do on Crystal Drops and Hawks. Not that I don't want anybody to tell me if they find errors - I'd be grateful. I just won't be reposting again. What a pain in the neck.

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**Chapter One**

"Hey, wait up, Tara!"

Two girls sped through the corridors of the orphanage, sandaled feet slapping loudly against the cool wooden floors. The second girl paused in mid-stride, glancing behind herself for signs of approaching teachers, especially approaching teachers looking in need of a scapegoat. Not particularly wanting to become a scratching post for every stressed, frustrated teacher, she grimaced at the noise they were making.

. "Come _on_, Kari, or we'll be late!" the first girl called, her short-cropped dark hair bobbing around her shoulders with each step. "Professor Lenora told us to make sure we were outside by three o'clock!"

"Slow down. She can't really expect us to be on time, not when she's never on time herself," The second girl exclaimed, struggling to keep up with her scrawny partner-in-crime. Tara had a major advantage in height. Short, stocky, and tanned despite her struggle to get the least amount of fresh air possible, Kari knew she'd never have that effortless, loping stride. She forced her feet to move faster, her calves beginning to burn.

"Kari, today we're having a guest. He's supposed to be really important. I heard-"

"You eavesdropped, you mean," Kassandra, or Kari, cut in with a knowing grin, her voice breathy as she spoke between footfalls.

"You'd be surprised what you can hear when you listen. Anyway, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted," Kari gave Tara a playful shove; "Professor Lenora wants us to show him around. I don't remember what she said his name was. Professor Avery or something."

"Why us?" Kari asked. "Why not have Karla or Sam show him around? They're the brainiacs. Or maybe Anthony, the human dictionary."

"Because of that project we did last semester in school, when we researched the history of the orphanage."

"I would have just taken the exams if I'd known that this would come of it. That took ages to complete! Going through all those old blue-prints, and making that model of the school-"

"But we got to explore the basement and attic. Students aren't normally allowed to go in those places. And we got to see inside the staff rooms."

"Hooray!" Kari replied sarcastically. "It would have been a whole lot less work to just sneak into there when nobody was around."

"You're unhappy about this? What about me? How am I supposed to sound relatively intelligent if all I can say is 'um'?"

"So you're taking out all your nervous energy on me by making us _run_ there? Tara, unlike you, some people don't find zooming through the hallways fun!"

"But it is! If any teacher asks us to slow down, we can just say we're late to meet this Professor and they'll let us pass."

"Says who?" Kari asked, glancing behind them again as if those very words would be enough to summon a teacher from a nearby room.

"I tried it already," Tara informed Kari smugly.

"Oh." Kari fell silent for a moment. "He must be really important then."

"Yep."

They reached the doors leading outside and Tara paused before opening the door. She peeked out the window; palms flat against the cool metal and took a deep breath. She could see Professor Lenora's burnished hair sparkling in the mid-afternoon sunlight through the window. "Okay, breathe. He's not going to fry me and eat me for dinner. He just wants to know about the school," she murmured. For some strange reason, the pep talk wasn't helping her nerves any.

Kari leant against the wall, panting. She swept her twin braids behind her, wiping damp wisps of blonde hair from her forehead. "Gosh, Tara, you make it sound like he's a monster. I'd go first, but I don't know if I can. I'm still winded from racing here," Kari shot at her friend. Tara moved aside gratefully.

"Thanks, Kari."

"You're welcome. You owe me one, though."

"I'll help you with that Global History project tonight," Tara promised as Kari pushed open the door. She stopped talking abruptly as she caught sight of the man Professor Lenora was helping out of a car. He was completely bald and rode in a wheelchair. Professor Lenora turned around, smiling.

"Tara, Kari! Not late this time, I see," she commented with an easy smile. "I suppose Tara's told you everything there is to know about the Professor you will be showing around?"

Tara grinned affably at her favorite Professor. "No, Professor."

"Only that we're to show him around the school because of the history project we did last semester," Kari sent Tara a mock glare. Tara smiled sheepishly back.

"It sounded like fun when I heard about it," she offered. Kari snorted.

"Professor Xavier, please meet my two students, Kassandra and Alyatara."

"Nice to meet you, Professor Xavier," the two girls chimed.

"I'm very glad to meet you both," he told them, eyes twinkling.

"I'll leave you three alone to get acquainted, then," Professor Lenora commented. "Tara, can you run these bags up to the guest room in the Green Wing?"

"Yes, Professor," Tara picked up the bags and was about to head off when her Professor called to her.

"Kari and Professor Xavier will still be here when you get back, Tara. I didn't mean run in the literal sense."

Tara checked her pace and nodded. "Okay, Professor."

Kari sat down on the grass beside the Professor's wheel chair. "The Green Wing is just about the farthest away from the parking lot," she explained. "Even if Tara goes slowly until she's out of eye sight, it'll still take her a while."

"I take it Alyatara likes to run?"

"Likes to run? I reckon that in her past life she must have been a deer or something! She's got enough energy for the both of us," she grinned. Tara was always the athletic one, whereas Kari had always preferred to read about people doing things involving physical exertion than actually doing them herself. Fast and agile like a gazelle; Tara's frailty lay in her painful shyness around people she didn't know well.

Turning, Kari stared at the trees of the forest in the distance. They swayed in a healthy breeze. Normally it would have been a hot August day, but the wind kept everything tolerably cool. She could just barely see the glint of blue in the forest of the lake.

The door to the orphanage opened just enough to let Tara slip though, much chastened. If she had been a dog, her tail would have been in between her legs. Kari's smile vanished when she saw her friend's look.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Nothing," Tara answered, her eyes flicking to Professor Xavier quickly before her gaze became fixed solidly on the lawn under her feet. She wiggled the toes on one of her feet, watching how the tiny movement affected the individual blades of grass.

"What was your project on?" The Professor asked, wheeling himself forward as Tara went behind him to push his chair. "No thank you, Alyatara, I'll get it," he assured her.

"Yes, Professor."

Kari snuck a glance at her friend. "It was on the history of the orphanage and the school. Tara," she sent Tara a mock-exasperated look, "found out about it from Professor Lenora last semester."

"Professor Lenora said that I could do that Project instead of our semester test, since I was, um, wasn't here for a lot of one of the units."

"Where were you?" Professor Xavier asked politely. Tara's eyes grew a bit darker and her cheeks flushed slightly.

"I was adopted," she said shortly, and Kari took over to avoid the long, awkward silence she knew would follow.

"Tara thought it sounded neat because we'd get to explore places we wouldn't be able to otherwise, and accepted. She was only half done by the time of the semester test. Professor Lenora looked over what she'd planned on including and decided it was _way_ too much for one person to handle, if said person wanted to get any sleep in the next few months. Tara hadn't yet mastered the art of power napping, so she was going to have to end up dropping a lot of information."

"Professor Lenora said that if I wanted to keep everything, I could choose one person to help me, and in return, that person wouldn't have to take the semester test either."

"So she chose me, and I accepted." Kari grinned at the friend who had become almost like a sister to her in those few months, however grudgingly the friendship had started out. "I suppose I admit that I had _some_ fun at least," she said wryly.

Tara beamed, skipping a step and whirling around to walk backwards so that she could see her friend. "I told you so!" she exclaimed. "Ha, you admitted it."

"Yeah, well, I didn't really like the snakes that were nesting in the basement," Kari shot back.

"The snakes? Did you take a look at some of those spiders?" Tara shivered slightly. "Ugh, some of them were as big as my palm!"

"The snakes are _far_ worse than those spiders."

"The snakes were rather cute," Tara protested. "You were just annoyed at the bats that were nesting in the bell tower."

"Bats I don't mind. Bats getting into my hair and relieving themselves on my clothes – that I mind!"

"They were fuzzy," Tara pointed out.

"What did you expect? For them to be naked?"

"You never know," Tara grinned. "Maybe one day we'll stumble across bats that have purple spiked fur."

"The only bats that would look like that are those that Kathy gets her hands on."

Once inside, Tara gave Kari a Look.

"I have to use the restroom. I'll be back in a moment," she said, heading off toward a door to their left.

"Me too," Kari burst out, following her inside. Professor Xavier just caught the edge of the conversation. "So what did you eavesdrop this time?" Kari felt a thrill of foreboding when Tara didn't protest against her word choice. The normal, "I was only listening in," speech didn't form on Tara's lips.

"It's awful! The Professor isn't here to hear about history! He's here to take one of us away, maybe both!"

"It's horrible!" Tara finished. "And Professor Lenora said that it's doubtful that he'll take both of us! We'll probably never see each other again." She shuddered. "I don't want to go. Not like the last time."

"The last time you were adopted. This time you're just going to a different orphanage. Besides, I might be going too," Kari, pointed out.

"But what if you don't? I'll miss you so much! You're like a sister to me!"

They embraced, hugging each other tightly. "I'll miss you too. But Tara, wherever you go, we'll still be friends. I'll never forget you."

Tara sniffed, tears flooding her eyes. "I won't ever forget you, either. And if somebody else tries to adopt me, I'm leaving. I'm coming back here, and there's nothing anybody can do about it!" She sniffed as they spilled over her cheeks.

"Tara, not all people are as mean as the people who adopted you," Kari sighed, getting a paper towel down. "Collin wasn't. Here, wipe your eyes and blow your nose. We've still got to show the Professor around, and I bet you wouldn't want him to know you were crying."

"He called me Alyatara," she mumbled, even as she realized how childish she sounded. "_They_ called me Alyatara."

"That was how you were introduced. Nobody else knows why you came back except me. Nobody else knows what happened with _Them_," she spoke the word venomously, as if it were something poisonous or sickly that would sting her if she didn't hold it at arms length. "Here, I'll tell him that you don't like being called Alyatara. He looks like a nice sort of person. I'm sure he'll call you Tara."

"Thanks," Tara whispered, hugging her friend tightly as if afraid that if she let go, Kari would disappear forever.

"Here, the Professor is waiting for us. Come out when you're ready."

Professor Xavier was waiting when Kari came back outside. "Professor?"

"Yes?"

"Tara _really_ doesn't like being called Alyatara," Kari's brow knitted as she glanced worriedly toward the entrance to the bathroom.

Tara gave a small whimper and clutched her temples as Kari left. For a few minutes, she thought her head would burst from the pain, and her stomach began to churn. She had the feeling that something big was trying to fight its way out of her, something that she didn't want to get out. Sweat beaded her forehead.

Finally, the pain began to ease until she was able to stand and sponge the sweat from her forehead. She pressed a damp paper towel to her face, willing the heat to leave and her flushed cheeks to go back to their normal pale color. _But since when have I ever had good luck_? She wondered as she took a deep breath and walked around the corner.

Kari looked up as her friend came out and her smile faded, replaced by a worried countenance as she took in her friends red face. "Tara, are you okay?" she asked.

"Yes, I'm fine," Tara assured her friend as the headache beat its familiar tattoo against her forehead. _It'll go away eventually. It always does,_ she thought.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Come on, Professor Lenora wanted us to show him the old boundary line. We'll have to hurry before it gets dark."

"You had another headache, didn't you?" Kari asked her friend later that evening, after they'd gotten the Professor settled in his quarters. He was to stay for the next couple days. They were to continue to shepherd him around when he wasn't meeting with the other teachers.

"Yes," Tara sighed. She was lying on her bed, an ice pack (a bag of frozen peas snuck from the cellar) planted on her forehead. She didn't want Professor Lenora to know. She would only fuss, insisting that Tara stay in bed, drink prune juice, and eat lots of onions and garlic. Tara was beginning to hate the taste of prune juice.

"We should tell Professor Lenora. She could get you some Tylenol."

"No."

"Come down to dinner, then. You can't just not eat or drink anything. Maybe you'll feel better if you get some food inside you."

"No, I won't. I eavesdropped on Professor Xavier and the Headmistress. He's going to take me as a Ward. Headmistress is making him," She stared up at the ceiling. "He lives in New York State."

From the small town of Northern Halifax, Nova Scotia, New York State seemed ages away. "New York State?" Kari burst out. "But that's got to be ages from here! It's in a whole different country!"

"It takes more than two days to drive," Tara said in an emotionless voice. "About five, six hours by plane. I asked the librarian."

"We can write," Kari said slowly. "Maybe once in a while Headmistress will let me use the telephone to call."

Tara sighed heavily, reaching up to tug the bag of iced peas back into place as it slid down to her nose. Her headache, which hadn't abated all day, was finally leaving.

"Go on down to dinner, Kari," she said slowly. "Don't starve yourself because of me. I'll get something from the kitchens later."

"No you won't, you'll 'forget'. I won't have you starving yourself. I'll bring you something back," Kari promised her friend. She gave Tara a tight hug before she got up. "You just rest here. We can worry about – about packing in the morning."

The next few days flew by. Tara was in one of the gloomiest moods she'd been in since coming back from the Wellington's residence several months before, swathed in bandages and jumping at shadows. The day before Tara was to leave, she wandered around the library, one of her favorite haunts.

The library was a room about the size of the cafeteria. Books were piled everywhere: on shelves, in cupboards, on tables and chairs. The older students, whispering to wide-eyed little children, said that the librarian spent her nights rearranging the order of the books so that anybody who tried to find a book to read would become lost in the never-ending shelves. Tara, who knew the librarian was not the crabby, grouchy old shrew that the rest of the school seemed to see her as, knew exactly where to find any book in the place.

The librarian, upon hearing that Tara was leaving, had granted her leave to take with her a few of her favorite books, provided they weren't needed for research purposes. Tara knew that she was really being forbidden from taking the blueprints to the school like she had been tempted to do, just out of spite to the headmistress. Since she knew them by heart, there wasn't much point in taking them for herself. She could just about draw them with her eyes closed.

Professor Xavier wheeled his chair in through the heavy oak doorway. The scent of dust and old books was thick upon the air. The wide widows along one side of the room allowed sunlight to stream in, illuminating floating dust particles. He saw Tara immediately from where she towered over the bookshelves. The librarian, being only about five feet tall, was always complaining about not being able to reach the shelves, and kept lowering the bookcases a few inches or so every year. As such, they were also slightly uneven, as her method of lowering the bookshelves lay in hacking an inch off the bottom of the shelves with a hatchet.

Tara was wandering through the bookcases, running her fingertips lightly over the bindings. Her face was wet and the fresh tear tracks shone in the dim light. "Happy birthday to me," she said softly. In the silence, Professor Xavier could hear her words clearly. "Happy Birthday Tara. Go pack up. We don't want you here anymore."

She pulled a book out of the bookcase and laid it on top, flipping it open and placing a small, brightly colored bookmark in it. She closed the book, pressed the cover against her cheek, and replaced it. Her adoptive father's voice seemed to ring in her ears. "Crummy kids attract crummy parents." She had mumbled a complaint that she had the worst luck when it came to foster parents. The fact that she had now been adopted three times, and sent back each time, wasn't common knowledge in the orphanage.

"Tara," Professor Xavier's voice seemed to boom throughout the silence, shattering it like a hammer to a delicate piece of glass. Tara spun around, eyes wide and dark. "Sorry, child, I didn't mean to startle you."

_Yeah, well, you startled me,_ Tara thought, but then rebuked herself. _He hasn't done anything yet. You might as well give him a chance._

_Oh yeah, like I did the Wellingtons? And the Johnsons before that? And the Pruetts five years ago? _

She bit back a sigh. None of them had lasted longer than a year, and the Wellington's had been the shortest. For three months she'd lived with sickly Agatha Wellington and her fanatical husband, Rob. Three long months until he was locked up in jail for child abuse and fraud and she – well, she still had the scars from the burns. When she'd heard that the headmistress was making her leave, she had felt like somebody had dropped leaden weights into her stomach as the remains of her tattered vow never to leave the orphanage again fluttered to rest, broken, around her ankles.

"We have to leave early to catch our flight. We should leave at about seven o'clock."

"Yes, Professor," she answered. She felt a stab of relief. At least as a Ward he would not expect her to start calling him dad or father or Uncle Charles. And even if he did, she would refuse. She was sure she had once had a father, and that would be the only one she would call that name.

"I am very glad you are coming with me. I'm sure you'll be happy in New York."

Tara scowled inwardly. She felt the familiar stirring of fear and her head began to throb painfully. _That's just what They said,_ she thought, face going pale. She felt a sharp, burning pain on her left palm. Looking down at it, she saw that her palm was red and raw. She curled her fingers around the burn, her stomach plummeting. _I thought they'd all healed._ _What could I have burned myself on?_ Ever since she'd left the Wellington's, she'd avoided anything hot enough to burn: burners, hot pans fresh from the oven, kilns, etc. Anything that would bring back memories of _Them_ was treated with avoidance and fear.

"Are you okay?" Professor Xavier asked her, wheeling closer. She squeezed between two of the bookcases, a snug fit for her and one she knew he would never get through with his wheelchair.

"Yes." She lowered her eyes to look at the titles, hoping he'd take the hint and go away. _Oh, it's my favorite._ Her headache forgotten, she ducked down to pull down two old, battered volumes. They were big books: all over 900 pages each. She heaved them up onto the top of the bookcase and blew the dust from the covers.

She smiled sadly as she flipped through a few pages, reading about Merlyn and King Arthur, and the Knights of the Round Table. The second book was three novels shoved together, containing stories of Queen Elisabeth of England and Princess Mary of Scotts. She ran her fingertips over the covers reverently.

"I thought she'd gotten rid of these. I thought they must have fallen apart ages ago," she mumbled to herself as she ducked back down, scanning the shelves. She found another of her favorites, a collection of Terhune's books on Lad and Lassie. She set the heavy tome down beside the others. "The Librarian said a few. I hope that one of these doesn't count as more than one."

"Well, if you said that you thought she got rid of them a long time ago, she probably wouldn't mind. If they are that old, she might have forgotten that they are there."

"Oh, the Librarian wouldn't forget," Tara, murmured, reverently touching the first page of Lassie Come home. "The Librarian doesn't forget _anything._"

Professor Xavier chuckled, and Tara flushed. "Goodbye, sir," she nodded her head to him as she picked up her heavy burden and walked into the back room. The door, old and warped, didn't close all the way and he could hear her voice and that of the librarian as he steepled his hands, a frown settling over his face as he listened.

"Could I have these three books?"

"Certainly, Tara. Are you sure they'll fit in your duffle? Those three must weight a ton!'

"Only a small ton, ma'am. I was wondering…could you sign the cover for me? So that I'll – well, just because?"

"Yes, Tara, I'd be glad to. Thank you for thinking of a wrinkled old prune such as myself. You take care of yourself, now, and don't let that Professor of yours push you around."

"Yes, ma'am," Tara replied, smiling, "Thank you, ma'am."

"You're very welcome, dear. Run along now."

Tara stared out the window of the airplane, trying to fight the howl of misery that longed to escape her. If she weren't feeling so dejected she would have been excited, this being her first – and probably last - ride in an airplane. Professor Xavier was in the seat beside her, but she steadfastly ignored him. She didn't want to be anyone's Ward. Giving it serious thought, she had decided that being someone's Ward was almost the same as being adopted, something she'd struggled against ever since she was eight years old and had just come back from the Pruett's. She wished she could go as far away from the Professor as was possible miles above the ground.

Instead, she contented herself with inconspicuously edging away from him. She was good at being inconspicuous. _Must come from spending half my life trying to keep out of the view of my adoptive parents,_ she thought bitterly. _Kari, I miss you so much already._

Tara wished she could just wake up and find herself back at the orphanage, with Kari sleeping in the twin bed next to Tara's. What wouldn't she give to wake up and talk to Kari to drain the horror from the memory of a dream she knew was just that – a nightmare.

She rested her head against the window with a sigh. The cool glass pressed against her forehead. The glass helped to sooth the vague headache that had begun to haunt her endlessly nowadays, a reminder of the constant torture she'd lived through at the Wellingtons and was probably now going to go through all over again. The pain seemed to never let up, not even in sleep, for she'd wake up in the morning with a worse headache than she'd started out with. Eventually her head seemed to grow numb to it, leaving just a slight fuzziness of thought.

Professor Xavier turned his head to look at the sleeping girl beside him. "I wish you would trust me," he said softly. She frowned in her sleep and shifted her forehead against the glass to find a new position, where the heat of her skin had not seeped the coolness from the surface.

Five and a half hours later Professor Xavier laid a hand on Tara's shoulder to wake her. She sat up straight with a gasp; wincing as the back of her head hit the window with a dull thunk. "We're here," he told here. She nodded, shaking her head slightly to try to clear the feeling that was filling her brain, like somebody had stuffed her ears with cotton wool. She felt the back of her head where a lump was rising and grimaced.

Tara looked around her with wide eyes as they stepped out of the airplane. "The academy is in Bayville," Professor Xavier informed her as he rolled his wheelchair down the ramp. "I arranged for one of my students, Jean Grey, to pick us up."

"Am I to live at the academy?" Tara asked in a small voice.

"Yes. There are dormitories attached to it. You will go to school in the nearby high school. I hear that you are to be a freshman in High School this year. How old are you?"

"Thirteen, Professor," she informed him. "My birthday was yesterday."

"Then you started Pre-school when you were two?" he asked her.

"No. I went to Kindergarten as a three-year-old. Northern Halifax doesn't have a pre-school."

Professor Xavier went outside to watch for Jean as Tara got her bags from luggage chute. She slung her backpack onto her back, stumbling a step backward under the solid weight of it. Most of the weight came from the three books she packed carefully between layers of her clothes. Looking up, she saw a familiar, hawk-nosed profile in the distance. _Mr. Wellington? How did he get out of jail?_ She thought. Panic rose inside her as she edged toward the door, bending her knees to appear shorter than she really was as she slipped outside. _Please don't let him see me;_ she begged whatever higher powers might be listening in. Her back to him, she didn't see as he turned around, sighting her retreating back and giving the sadistic smile that had always made her stomach turn over.

There was a red convertible waiting for them outside. A red-haired, grey-eyed lady stood beside it, chatting cheerfully with the Professor.

"Professor Xavier, welcome back!"

"Hello, Jean. I'd like to you meet Tara. Tara, this is Jean Grey."

"Nice to meet you," Tara said softly, eyes as wide as dinner plates and twice as dark. Her skin seemed twice as pale beneath her mop of curly dark hair.

"It's very nice to meet you too, Tara," Jean said warmly, extending a hand that Tara took timidly, biting back a wince as the burned skin on her left hand stung painfully. "Here, let me help you with your bag."

"That's okay. I can get it," she slipped out of the shoulder straps. _Nobody_ was going to take her bag while it still held her books in it. "Besides, the straps come loose if you hold it wrong." This bag had been through fire and back – literally.

Jean helped the Professor into the car as Tara climbed into the back seat. Holding her bag on her knees, she rested her forehead on it, half-closing her eyes. She felt tired, emotionally and physically, and welcomed it. Things didn't hurt as badly when you were bone weary. _And if I'm not mistaken, I'm going to be hurting real soon,_ she thought wearily as she thought back to her sight of Rob Wellington. Her one comforting thought was that obviously Professor Xavier wanted her. If it came down to a legal fight, the Professor would win. Even so, Rob was more likely to steal her away, rather than face a court battle. He _was_ a wanted criminal, after all. She dreaded what would happen if it came down to that. He would be merciless.

"I was glad to come and get you. Logan decided to take us on another 'happy survival trip'," Jean commented wryly as she stashed Tara's small suitcase in the trunk.

Jean climbed into the car and started the engine, making Tara start and her eyes to shoot open all the way. The breeze whipped through her hair and she stared almost unblinkingly out of where the window would have been had the hood been up. She gaped as the academy came into view.

It was an immense building. More than twice as big as the orphanage, the mansion towered above her as they drove up the gently sloping driveway. "I trust that you haven't burnt down the Institute in my absence?" she dimly heard Professor Xavier remark to Jean, who chuckled.

"Not from lack of trying," she joked.

Jean parked the car. "Tara," Professor Xavier called. "Why don't you go wait inside while we set up my wheel chair again?"

"Yes, Professor," Tara rose obediently, slipping from the car and striding up the front steps where she opened the front door just far enough to be able to fit inside.

"Professor, you know your wheelchair takes hardly any time to set up."

"I know, but I wanted to ask you something. Jean, can you show Tara to her room? She is not very fond of me at the moment, and I haven't quite figured out why as of yet. I wish to refrain from prying," he tapped his forehead, "for as long as possible, although it's rapidly looking as if I may be forced to."

"Is she human?" Jean asked. "I must say; none of us expected you to come home with anybody, much less a Ward."

"I do not believe she is human, yet I think she has been repressing her mutant powers for a very long time." He frowned, stroking his chin. "I do not believe she is ready to accept the fact that she is a mutant. Another mutant, a Robert Wellington, physically and emotionally abused her a very short while ago. She has not fully recovered from it."

"Why did you bring her here?" Jean asked. "It sounds as if she might never become a mutant at all if she just keeps repressing her powers like she has been doing."

"But if she doesn't, I don't want to think about what might happen to her if she falls into a mental institution, like Wanda," he looked suddenly stern. Jean nodded, chastened.

Just inside the academy doors, Tara pressed her ear against the door. She was unable to hear anything but the murmur of the two voices outside, the deeper rumble of Professor Xavier and the higher treble of Jean. _They're talking about me,_ she thought, biting her lip. _Scheming, most likely. Just like the Wellingtons. Of course, it wasn't so bad until Aggie died._ She remembered Agatha Wellington, sickly and pale. In her three-month stay there, she could count on one hand the number of times she'd seen the woman standing. However, Aggie had always tried to shield her from the brunt of Rob's wrath.

Her stomach began to churn and her throat seemed to close up as she took her ear away from the door, a sense of hopelessness and impending doom falling over her. _Why does everything have to hurt so badly?_ She wondered as she leaned heavily against the wall, letting her bag drop limply from her fingers as she forced back tears. _You'd think I'd be used to it by now._

The door opened. Tara straightened, picking up her bag as Jean followed Professor Xavier through the door. "Jean will show you to where you will be staying," the Professor informed her. "I will speak with you again after dinner."

"Yes, Professor," Tara nodded. Those two words seemed to be all that ever came out of her mouth around him, but there wasn't much she could stutter on with that.

Jean gave the girl a smile, beckoning for her to follow. "Come. You are to stay up in the wing right above the library," she chuckled quietly as a slow smile bloomed across Tara's face. "Yes, we thought you would like that."

Tara slipped her arms back into the straps of her backpack as she followed Jean up a flight of stairs and down a corridor. Soon she was completely lost. She'd always had a pretty good sense of direction, which had been incredibly helpful in her long treks through the woods, but the corridor seemed to twist and turn like the smallest stream running through a mountainside.

Jean opened a door upon which Tara's name had been written in white chalk on a small black chalkboard. "This is to be your room," she held the door open as Tara stepped inside and stopped dead, mouth falling open.

The room was bigger than the one she'd shared with Kari back at the orphanage, but she didn't have to share this one. The coverlets on the twin beds were smooth and unruffled. The room was too clean to have seen a recent occupant. A window looked out into the backyard. The sun painted the sky as it descended behind a forest, and she thought she caught a glimpse of a flash of silver that might have been a river before Jean laid a hand on her shoulder.

She flinched away, whirling around as her head gave a particularly nasty throb. Jean pretended not to have noticed her reaction. "I'm glad you like your room. Dinner is in thirty minutes. I'll leave you alone to unpack. Don't worry about finding your way around right off," her eyes twinkled kindly. "I was lost too when I first came. I'll come back for you."

Tara scowled resentfully after Jean walked out the door. _No, you just don't want me wandering off before you can do whatever it is you do to people here to me._

_That's silly,_ part of her whispered. _Has Jean ever done anything to you?_

_No, but that doesn't mean anything. She's his accomplice. Why would he want to have me as his Ward anyway? This'll be just like the Wellington's._ She sighed, sitting down on her bed and dropping her bag on the coverlet. The weight dimpled the mattress slightly. _Maybe I could just run away,_ she thought, a slim stirring of hope rising within her. _Maybe, I could just sneak off out my bedroom window during dinner, and­_

_Idiot,_ part of her shot back, _that never worked and it never will. If they want you bad enough, they'll get you back. Why would they bother adopt you if they didn't want you bad enough to keep you? _

_It worked for the Johnson's,_ she thought resignedly; _they just got so tired of me running off that they brought me back._ She remembered with a shudder how Rob Wellington had reacted the first time she'd run off, already nursing several burns along her back. She hadn't been away for three hours before he'd caught her. She fingered the long scar that ran down her arm, one of the only ones that hadn't come from fire. He had been so mad at her; he had used a knife.

Jean came back as promised, and Tara looked up at the knock. "Come in," she called.

"Dinner's going to be in a couple minutes. Come with me, I'll show you where the dining hall is."

Tara, who was sitting cross-legged on the bed closest to the window, one of her books on her lap, looked up at Jean, eyes pleading. "I'm not hungry. Could I just go to bed? I'm really tired."

Jean hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Yes. Goodnight, Tara. Pleasant dreams."

Tara waited until she heard the door click closed behind Jean before allowing herself to relax again. She leaned back against her pillow, her weariness falling down around her. She hadn't been lying about being tired; although that wasn't the real reason she didn't want to go down to dinner.

She didn't want to have to face Professor Xavier, or any of the other people who must live here. She realized that even if she did try to run away, she didn't have the strength to run far before her imminent capture. Leaning over, she shoved her book under her bed and safely out of sight before allowing her eyes to close and sleep to overtake her.

Tara groaned inwardly as she resisted the urge to kick her locker. _On second thought, maybe the pain in my foot would distract me from the one in my head,_ she thought. The locker gave an oddly satisfying crash. She let out a yelp as pain flared in her foot. "Ouch!" she grabbed her foot and leaned against her locker, breathing hard. "Oh, I am an _idiot!_" she burst out, turning to yank hard on the handle of her locker. The door swung open. "Oh."

The end of her first day at school, and she already wished she had taken Jean's advice that morning and stayed home. When Jean had come to wake her up at 6:30 in the morning, only to find that Tara was running a fever, she had insisted that Tara stay home. Tara had proceeded to try to sneak out after her and Jean had given in – reluctantly.

_"But I've got to go to school! I'll miss my classes, and I know how hard it is to catch up!" _

_Jean looked stern. "Stay here, get better, and you can go tomorrow. What good is going to do you if you can't concentrate for your classes?" _

_Professor Lenora would have tied me to my bed,_ she thought with a small smile as she slung her pack over her shoulder, looping the straps over her thin shoulders. It seemed to have gained twenty pounds with the addition of three textbooks.

_I hope I can find my way back to the Academy,_ she thought ruefully.

_You will,_ part of her told her. _Just look for familiar landmarks._

All the other kids had probably already gone home, so she didn't have anybody to follow. She'd spent ten whole minutes trying to get her locker open. Bayville was so different than Northern Halifax, sometimes seeming to be halfway around the world. The High School was a far cry from the poor little school she'd come from, where they had to scrap to buy schoolbooks and the primers were old and outdated.

She sighed contentedly as she walked out the door. There was so much to learn here! She especially loved her history class. Since she'd been old enough to borrow books from the library, she'd devoured all the historical fiction she could get her hands on, along with whatever fantasy books there were. It was fascinating to read about the Kings and Queens of old, of their triumphs and their tribulations, of medieval romances and Quests for holy grails and white hinds.

Trudging along the street, she kept her eyes peeled and muscles tensed and ready to run. She remembered how at the Johnsons, the neighbor's sons had liked to chase her down the street, pelting her with pebbles and small sticks. What was to say that the kids here would be any different? She'd never been to any place that hadn't had its share of horrors, except the orphanage. At the orphanage, the other kids left her alone if she let them be. She'd had Kari by her side. Who could get lonely with a friend like that?

She saw the shape of the academy rising in the distance and sighed. She wished she could just keep walking, all the way back to Northern Halifax. With a sigh, she turned and began to jog up the driveway. Running had lost its appeal. Pushing open the front door, she trudged slowly up to her room, dumping her bag on her bed.

The forest seemed to call to her. She remembered all the times she'd dragged Kari outside to explore it, before and after dark. She remembered the glint she'd seen, and wondered if this place had a lake too. _Probably not,_ she thought pessimistically.

_Can't hurt to look,_ part of her whispered. She felt a stir of her old spirit. She walked over to the window, throwing it open, and a slow smile bloomed across her face as she looked at the tree branch not too far from her window. _I can go tonight,_ she thought. _Or maybe I'll go now the normal way, and go back later tonight. That way I won't get lost._

She grinned to herself as she opened her door and skipped down the steps – right into Professor Xavier. The smile disappeared from her face and she stopped dead. "P-Professor?" she asked, cursing her stutter.

"Hello, Tara. I hope you are well?"

"I'm okay," she answered, a wary look in her eyes. It was like that of a cornered animal.

"I was just wondering because you did not come down to dinner last night."

"I was tired," she answered quietly, ducking her head and inspecting her shoes as annoyance rose inside her. _First you drag me here, and then you lecture me because I wasn't hungry?_

"How was your first day of school?"

"Good."

"I hope the Tylenol helped your headache."

Tara's head shot up and she glanced at him suspiciously. _No you don't. You're just like Him. _"It did," she lied. By now she knew that Tylenol did nothing to help ease the pain in her head. For a moment she remembered the hot branding iron, inching closer to the skin of her palm… Tara cut that thought off, suppressing a shudder. "I was going to go outside," she said hesitantly, as if expecting him to bark at her that she couldn't.

"Have fun," he told her, wheeling away. She leaned against the wall, shuddering, as soon as he was out of sight. She could almost feel the searing heat against her skin… Glancing down at her palm, she saw that it was beginning to blister, like when she'd first gotten it. Her eyes widened with horror and with a small moan she dashed outside.

By the next morning, all of her old burn scars along her back, legs, and arms had followed the one on her palm, losing their callus and becoming a raw red, and sore to the touch. She wrapped them in bandages and avoided touching them, for the contact made her head throb.

The other kids had come home late the night before. She'd only heard them because she'd been about to sneak out into the night, to sit by the bubbling water and let it soothe away the throb that pounded in her skull. Levering open her window, she'd shoved at the frame to shut it hurriedly as she saw the black jet land nearby. Several moments later, several shadows had walked by, groaning and complaining. The shapes had blessed the fact that they were finally back in civilization, with hot showers and flushing toilets _("A blessing from whichever Goddess is against Logan's God of cruel and unusual punishment," _a soft female voice had exclaimed).

Ducking back inside her window, she'd quickly shut off her flashlight, afraid of the lecture and/or beating she knew she'd get in the morning if somebody had seen that she was awake at 2:30 in the morning. She'd managed to get out of another "chat" with the Professor after dinner, with the excuse that she still had homework to catch up on. She'd blocked all but the thought of that _hideously_ long English assignment from her mind and he'd sighed, nodding reluctantly. She knew he wasn't fooled and that she wouldn't be so lucky today. Eventually she'd have to face him.

Tara yanked on the handle of the locker, in the midst of another argument with the stubborn hunk of metal. The locker just wasn't convinced that she should be able to get it open so she could stash her books in it. Looking up, her eyes widened. Rob Wellington was walking toward her out of the crowd of students, held back by the stampede. Her stomach clenched and she almost thought she'd lose her lunch then and there. _It's HIM_! She thought, panicking. _How did he find me here? _She spotted Jean's prominent red hair over the crowd and ran over, weaving in and out of the mob of people to reach her before she disappeared.

She was one of her friends. Tara almost lost her nerve. She snuck a glance back. Rob had stopped and was looking around with his arms crossed and eyes narrowed, searching. She turned her back and crossed her fingers. Between Rob and Jean, she'd choose Jean. At least Jean didn't have psychotic tendencies that she knew of.

"Um, Jean?" she took a deep breath as Jean turned around.

"Tara?"

"Um, maybe could, um, I walk home with you?" she asked, eyes wide and scared. _He'll get me if you don't;_ she pleaded silently, stomach turning slow circles.

"I have a project to work on in the library," Jean told the girl, brow knitting in worry. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Tara squeaked, shaking her head violently.

"You just look, well," Jean stopped, looking over the crowd. "See that guy over there, with the red-tinted glasses?" she pointed to a tall, dark-haired boy leaning against a locker and watching Jean surreptitiously. Tara nodded. "He lives at the Academy also. His name is Scott. He'll give you a ride home."

Tara gulped, looking up at her. For a moment she debated hiding in the library, waiting for Jean to finish her project, but the knowledge that Rob would probably get them both if she did made her throw that idea away. Jean smiled slightly, giving her a small push toward Scott. "Go on," she told Tara. "He doesn't bite."

"Yes'm," Tara dashed over to him, casting a look back over her shoulder. She could tell that Rob still hadn't spotted her. "Sir?"

Scott looked down in surprise at the soft squeak from beside him. The sound came from a tall, skinny girl, her face so pale that her freckles stood out like pebbles beneath her curly mop of dark hair. "Sir? Jean said th-that you could give me a ride back to the academy. Could you? P-please?"

Scott smiled reassuringly, and Tara swallowed hard. "Sure. Are you new?"

"Yessir," she answered, ducking around Scott and standing beside him, bending her knees slightly so as to hide better behind his tall form. She yelped and jumped backward into the locker with a crash as another boy popped up beside her out of nowhere. Brimstone momentarily filled her nostrils.

"Hey Scott! Rogue and Kitty are waiting by your car," he announced with an easy smile.

"Thanks, Kurt. By the way, this is Tara. She's staying at the Academy."

"Cool. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," she replied. Some of the color returned to her face. Rob wouldn't attack her if she were with a big group. _What if he follows me back to the academy? He's probably just waiting, biding his time until –_ she cut that thought off. _I'll just have to stay at the Academy. I can say I'm sick, or hang out around Jean on the way to and from school._ The thought made her almost as apprehensive as the thought of seeing Rob again. She'd come to find that being Jean Grey meant shooting yourself in the foot on a regular basis.

"Come on, Tara," Scott called to her, and she dashed out to follow him, casting a look behind her. Back at the Academy, she burst in the door and leaned against it, panting. The headache, which had finally begun to leave her alone, seemed to be burning a hole in her skull. She gave a small sob, pressing her palm to her forehead and yelped as pain flared in her head and hand. Looking down, she saw with horror that the skin of her palm was shiny and blistered.

"Tara! What's wrong?"

Tara looked up, startled. One of the other students was standing beside her. Kitty grabbed her hand, looking at the burn on it with alarm on her face. "What did you do to your hand?"

Tara wrenched her hand away. "Nothing!" she exclaimed, breaking free from Kitty and running up the stairs, all sense seeming to leave her in her terror. _He's back,_ she thought. _He'll find me here. I've got to get away – somehow._ She burst in through her bedroom door, slinging her bag on the floor. _The river! I'll go to the river! He'll never think of finding me there! If I just keep out of sight until nightfall, maybe he won't even come here._

She flung open her window, not daring to chance going out the front door. Not with Rob Wellington waiting for her to show herself. Stuffing some bandages in her pocket to bind her blisters with later, she climbed onto the sill, gathered herself, and leapt.

She bit back a scream as the rough bark ripped through the blistering skin of her palm. She swung up onto the tree branch, breathing heavily. _I can do this. Just get down from the tree. You can do this, Tara; you've done it before back home._ She couldn't hold back a moan of pain as her injured hand came into contact with the branch. She didn't trust herself to look at it, so she wrapped her arm around the tree branch, closed her eyes with a muttered prayer, and slipped off the branch. It was at least ten feet down to the ground, which she hit hard, rolling to her knees from the force with which she collided with the earth. Then she was off, running for the forest at top speed, head beginning to spin as beads of sweat popped out on her forehead.

At the river's edge, she dunked her hand into the cool water, letting the ice-cold liquid numb her flesh and clean out the wound. Her hand was an awful mess. She seemed to have shucked off an entire layer of skin. Blood was beading around where the capillaries had fed oxygen to her skin cells. She took the slightly wrinkled bandage from her pocket and wrapped it firmly around her hand, tucking the end in neatly before leaning against the tree-trunk and closing her eyes, waiting for her headache to abate its steady crashing throb against her skull.

"And then she just ran, Professor," Kitty told Professor Xavier as he sat and listened. "She looked like she'd just seen a ghost!"

"Thank you for telling me, Kitty. I'm going to go check the security cameras."

Tara clutched her head, rocking back and forth as hot tears spilled down her cheeks. "The pain won't go away," the dreaded voice spoke from behind her. She looked up through her tears to see the tall, dark form of Rob Wellington staring at her. Blind terror overcame her vision as she got to her feet, stumbling backward.

"I do admit; I would have thought it would take longer to track you after I broke out of jail. Imagine my surprise when I called the orphanage – under a different name, of course – only to find that you had become a Ward of some Charles Xavier. But no matter, soon you will be mine again."

"I'll never be yours," Tara spat, anger beginning to burn inside her, a white-hot flame. "Never!"

"Oh, we'll see about that. Don't you remember the last time we had a little chat?" he reached down, grabbing the hand without the bandage. "Eventually you will bow to my wishes." He pressed his fingers to her palm and she screamed as pain lanced through it: the sensation a hot iron being pressed against her skin. Rob dragged her to her feet.

"I must say, I was surprised to catch you so easily, even with reviving your old burns to track you with. Yes, a surprise, isn't it? I would have thought you would be up in your room, moping. Imagine my surprise, and my relief, to find you out here, within easy reach. Now come, we're leaving before those mutant freaks up at the academy come down to rescue you."

Tara felt a shock of surprise. Mutants? What did he mean by that? "What?"

"You don't know?" he asked, looking at her incredulous and bursting out laughing. "I would have thought, living at the Institute with their leader – but no, I suppose not. I am a mutant, as are you."

"NO!" she burst out. "I'm not like you! Never!" She pulled free of him, dashing off down the bank. Rob laughed maniacally.

"You can't run from me, Tara," he said, waving his hand. Flames leapt up around her. Tara screamed, splashing into the river. Her headache seemed to grow with the flickering flames.

"Gotcha," Kurt materialized beside her and grabbed her arm before she could jump away from him, blinking out again with her in tow. The next thing she knew, she was looking up at Professor Xavier. She collapsed on the ground, clutching her head.

"Tara, what is wrong?"

"My head," she managed to grit out between clenched teeth. "It won't stop. It always stops! Why won't it stop?" she remembered what Rob had said, how she couldn't hide from him. She stood up quickly and her head spun. "He's coming," she managed to burst out. "He'll come and – and –" she saw again the red-hot poker, and gave a shrill cry as another of her burn scars seared with pain again. She curled into a little ball on the ground, the memories she had tried so hard to forget flashing through her mind. There was a loud crash and ice-cold water began to pour down from a burst pipe in the ceiling, flowing over the flagstone floor.

"Tara, let me help you," Professor Xavier wheeled his chair forward and she stumbled back, away from him, the pain in her head blinding her vision.

"No, Rob, go away! Why can't you just leave me alone?"

"Tara, I won't hurt you." He wheeled forward again. When she didn't back away, he pressed his fingertips to her forehead.

_Memories of the Wellington's _

_No, Rob, I'm not going! _

_My head, it won't stop! **Pain!** _

_Kari, help me! _

_Memories of the Pruett's' and Johnson's _

_Why do you hurt me? _

_Rob standing over me, holding the poker _

_Red-hot poker, coming closer _

_**Pain! **_

_Tracking me, going to find me. Can't run, can't hide. _

(Tara, listen to me. Let me help you!)

_Professor Xavier wheeling toward me in the library. Why did I have to leave? I swore I'd never be adopted again. _

(Tara!)

(Professor, where are you? I can't see you!)

(I am here, Tara)

_An image of Professor Xavier in his wheelchair, stretching out his hand. I take it. There's something against my forehead - not Him; he hurts. This helps, soothing the headache that has plagued for so long. _

_Wet? _

Tara opened her eyes. She could feel Professor Xavier's fingertips against her forehead. Her headache was slowly draining away, leaving a calming peace in its wake. One of her hands was holding herself up; the other was clutching Xavier's hand. Professor Xavier opened his eyes as she let go of him, smiling gently at her as he sat back.

Tara smiled back at him, pressing her own hand to her forehead. She felt – normal. Her smile widened to a grin. Looking down at her hand, she saw that the blistering had faded, leaving not even a scar. She sat on her haunches as she pulled the bandage off her other hand. The skin was completely healed. "I'm me again," she said happily. "Thank you!" Only then when she took notice of the puddle of water around her feet. "Oh!"

* * *

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	2. Chapter 2

_Northern California, Redwood Forest_

_August, 1 year before_

The smoldering ruin of an airplane lay smoldering on the forest floor. A long scar trailed through the foliage behind it, marked its descent into the forest. Redwood trees moaned in protest, marred by the wings of the plane by deep gouges. A lone figure stumbled from the wreckage, coughing and choking on the thick black smoke that billowed from the wreckage. She stumbled to the open air, where she fell to her knees and let out a howl of grief as she stared into the fiery tomb in which her parents were trapped, never to see the light of day again.

Several days later found Alyda kneeling beside the ruins of the plane. The plane had been reduced to twisted sheets of metal, the craft ripped apart as if by a giant's hand before being set alight in a violent rage and thrown away. There was no way to give her parents a proper burial, even if she could have removed the bodies from the wreck. She had never been very religious. Mass, as seldom as they went, more often seemed a boring morning chore than anything spiritually meaningful. Now, however, she wished she had paid more attention. There had to have been something meaningful in the homilies, something that would have helped here. Her parents would surely have wanted a proper burial – or as proper a burial as you can give ash.

The detail, small as it was compared to everything else, seemed incredibly important. Her chest began to tighten again with grief and helplessness. She rubbed her forehead with the back of one dirt-streaked hand. Steepling her hands in front of her, she bent her head. Her chin brushed chipped, broken fingernails, stiff with clotted blood.

"Dear Jesus…" she began, bowing her head as her vision disappeared in a watery flood. Her voice cracked, throat raw from smoke and crying. She cleared her throat, trying to shift the lump that had lodged there, making it hard to breathe, let alone speak. She looked down at her bloodstained t-shirt, and her stomach began to churn. She'd been killing mice while her parents' bodies lay cremated on the earth. The ache made her feel sick and dizzy, exacerbating her hunger-pains. The shame that rose within her choked her as it joined almost seamlessly into her grief and fear. She screamed, a wordless keening shriek that rose shrilly on the cool air and silenced the chatter of the birds and insects for a single moment.

Breathing heavily, she gasped for breath as the forest noises whirred back into existence. The pause was as subtle as the tiny shift of a budding blossom, as deep as a long, dark chasm. A silent prayer rose to Heaven, tentative as the first trailing tendrils of a Black-eyed Susan Vine.

She had to delve deep inside for the strength to rise to her feet, and when she did, she swayed slightly. She looked to where she'd tossed the carcass of the mouse. The thought of eating it…but if she did not, she would starve. Alyda squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, shoving all of her emotions back – all the pain, the grief, the sorrow, the anguish – and staggered over to the mouse.

_Tensed muscles coiled and bunched, strained and released. Two quick beats with her wings, and she was up – soaring on the wind, taking to flight for the very first time. A wild feeling rose within her, nearly choking her with its power as it flooded in her chest with heat. Her throat seized up. The steady tempo of her wing beats faltered, giving her something to concentrate on, to steady the untamed emotions racing through her blood._

_Freedom._

Alyda keened her joy as a cool breeze ruffled through her feathers. She was flying. She tilted her wings down, stooping into a dive. The speed was exhilarating. For a while she was able to forget her loss, forget everything but the flight and the wind, and the giddy, exultant bliss that it caused. Anything was possible. She had the wind; she had the skies. The sun was a blazing ball in the sky, baking her feathers and lessoning the chill of the wind. Her nostrils caught a plethora of scents as she soared upward again on a thermal.

Alyda woke with a start, panting slightly. Closing her eyes again made no difference to the pitch darkness of her surroundings, but she left them open anyway out of habit. The feelings of the hard earth beneath her and the rough stone wall of the cave against her side were comforting. Without them, she could almost believe she was a ghost herself, merely floating in the sounds echoing from the forest outside.

Breathing out hard, she lay back down and closed her eyes as the joy of the dream faded. She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could be transported back into the dream and out of painful reality.

Alyda perched lightly on one of the upper branches of the tall redwood tree, sharp amber eyes peeled for anything which would constitute as edible. Her stomach complained at the lack of food, a nearly constant ache that reminded her of her slow progress at hunting. It was two weeks since the crash that had killed everyone but her, and she had yet to manage to catch anything larger than mice. The girl scanned the forest floor below for movement. The idea of killing and eating mice had seemed horrible at first. However, after a few days, she'd quickly learned that being squeamish meant not eating, and not eating meant being eaten by something else.

_Predators take the old and the weak,_ Alyda thought wryly. _Can't imagine one letting me go free just because I ask politely. "Oh, please, sir wolf! Let this deliciously easy meal pass and go track down something else. I don't feel like being eaten today. Check back in tomorrow, though, and perhaps I'll find time to fit it into my to-do list."_

There was a minute movement in the tall grasses surrounding the base of the tree. Alyda dove silently from her perch, feeling the wind whipping through her feathers, the soft crunch of the mouse's skull as her talons pierced the heart… With a triumphant cry, Alyda swung back up to her perch to devour her dinner, ripping into the soft flesh.

_A bird's got to eat,_ Alyda reminded herself as she swallowed a chunk of her kill, lifting her head to peer around her into the gathering dusk. _It's not like I'm killing for sport. I'm hunting because I'll die if I don't. Even if I could find some sort of vegetation that looks familiar and edible, how would I really know?_

Alyda picked up the remains of the mouse and flapped toward her nest, again seeing the difference between the forests of California and the small town of Sandusky, Michigan where she'd grown up. She washed off her talons and beak before curling up into her nest to sleep, tucking her head under her wing.

Alone in the wilderness, the days seemed to stretch, each minute a year of hunger and loneliness. With nothing to do but hunt, trying futilely to scrap together enough food to fill the stomach and ease for a while the hunger pangs, the weeks ran together like darkly colored dyes. They oozed to form a murky brown haze that covered her memory. It was easier to face each successive day by blocking the past. Without past there could be no future, yet her future would be cut short unless she remained mindful of the present. No form was safe – each animal had a precarious balance of predator and prey. It took all her strength and energy to keep from becoming someone's mid-afternoon snack. She had no time for daydreams or futile hope for the future.

_Northwestern Mexico, Laguna Santa Maria_

_February_

The rising sun was reflected over the crystal-blue lake and sparkled in the eyes of the prairie wolf that lay in a small burrow dug into the sandy soil. Alyda's great dark eyes stared unblinkingly at the surface of the lake. She loved this time of day, when the sun was just rising above the horizon and all was cool and bright. Her head seemed clearer at these times. She often thought back, remembering far away places and memories. Often, at these times, she could forget the gaping hole within her heart.

She hadn't stayed in the forest for more than a month before she had begun to feel restless and itchy. Soon she'd been flying away, trusting her instincts to lead her. With time, the temperature had warmed and she'd come to great two-legger cities. Alyda had almost gone straight through, wanting to see another human again. Something within her had rebelled, and she'd stayed to the outskirts, where she would perch in trees near houses and watch people come and go for hours on end.

That is, until a man smelling of old sweat and drink had taken a gun and tried to shoot her for the red-tail's bright feathers. After that, she'd avoided two-leggers. The red-tail's instincts to evade two-leggers had become hers, and with time, that evasion had turned to fear. Alyda couldn't remember the last time she'd changed back into a human.

Often, when she peered into the sparkling surface of the water before ducking into her burrow to sleep through the heat of the desert, she'd remember a small gray house on a hill, surrounded by trees with a small brook running alongside. Alyda loved that picture, and would often sit for hours in her dark burrow until the image resurfaced in her memory. She knew deep down that that picture meant home and home was where she would go once the Big Cold was over and she migrated back up North.

The sun was now high in the sky, and Alyda ducked into the tunnel, curling up against the cool, damp sand as above her the heat began to radiate from the sand and the sounds of the nocturnal desert creatures settling down to sleep reached her ears.

_Colorado, Rio Grande River_

_Late April_

Alyda sat down by the large river she'd been following in her two-legger form. Over the winter, her wavy auburn hair, already long, had grown almost to her waist. She tried unsuccessfully to comb out the tangles. Her skin was dark and tanned from the weather, and her gold-speckled green eyes shone brightly in a round face. Her frame was petite, almost elfin in appearance. Even at thirteen, she could easily pass for an eleven, or even ten-year-old.

Her head was clearer than it had been in a long time. For the first time in half a year, she remembered exactly who she was and where she came from. The gaping hole inside her had healed somewhat, even though the scar still remained. Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly as she concentrated on the form she was going to try for the first time – gryphon.

The changes happened quickly. Russet feathers sprouted all over her body, turning to cream on her underbelly and paws. A long tail snaked out behind her and she grew talons and a beak as great wings sprouted from her shoulders. As the change completed, Alyda waited for the instincts of the gryphon to rise up inside her, steadying herself to control them if they proved as explosive as some of the forms she'd taken. It'd been several hours before she'd managed to overcome the fear that had accompanied the mouse form.

The instincts never came. Alyda opened great amber eyes, peering around herself. She ruffled her feathers and stood, taking a few steps and stumbling slightly as she adjusted her gait. Opening her wings, she flapped a few times experimentally before launching herself into the air. Her emergency landing several feet ahead of where she'd taken off assured her of one thing – she was going to be _really_ sore the next morning.

Learning to fly wasn't all that it was cracked up to be.

It was the work of a moment to shrink into the shape of the red-tailed hawk. Alyda flapped hard to gain altitude before setting off, her wings pointing northeast. There was a great distance to travel, but her mind didn't shy from the thought of hard work. She had all the time in the world. There was no hurry. In the place of the rampant joy, and heavy anguish was a fierce determination. She had soared, she had plummeted, she had fallen, and she had steadied again. She _would_ make it, or her name wasn't…what was her name again? Alyda. She would make it or her name wasn't Alyda.

She repeated the words over and over in her mind, a silent mantra, digging up her memories. They rose, shadowy images at first, slowly coming into focus like an old Polaroid photograph. _I am Alyda Joasha. I am Alyda Joasha. I am Alyda Joasha._ She latched onto one picture, a picture that rang clearly in her heart and mind.

Home.

_I am Alyda Joasha. I am Alyda Joasha._

Alyda Joasha was going home.

There was safety in the flying, a freedom in the ability to travel wherever she wished, eat whenever she liked, sleep when she was weary… The days stretched on in front of her, her perceptions of time flattening out like that of an animal – one day in front of another, one foot in front of another, one meal after a next. Independence was bittersweet.

Southwestern Minnesota, Caledonia 

_Middle of May_

Inside one of the deep forests that blanketed much of Minnesota, a gryphon rose above the trees, gliding above the tops before swooping back down again. Alyda had finally gotten the hang of flying as a gryphon, once she'd gotten past the fact that gryphon's did not fly like hawks or eagles. Gryphons were like cats that had suddenly gained wings. They had grace to their movements, but it wasn't exactly like that of a hawk. Alyda had figured out why normally cats _don't _fly.

Landing lightly on the forest floor, Alyda transformed into a wolf and began to eat up miles in a ground-eating lope. _I'm getting closer,_ she thought as hope rose within her. _I can feel it!_

Always to go forward, never stopping. Eventually she'd get there. That phrase drove her on, gave her heart the strength it needed. Eventually she'd be home. Everything would be all right after that.

_Welland, Ontario_

_Early June_

Alyda flew over the Canadian woods, pumping her wings furiously to drive back the memories that were raging within her. If she had been human, she would have been weeping with sorrow as the scars of her mended heart were cruelly ripped wide again. A few days ago, she had left her home. A few days ago she had come to the realization that she would never be back.

She'd been so close to the house, she could smell scent of the old nest, but it had smelled wrong somehow. Something within her had cautioned her not to rush right out, and the instinct was right. There was a moving van parked in the driveway. Kids milled around the yard as the adults worked, dragging furniture and boxes inside. One of the kids, a young boy who looked no older than nine, had spotted her. He'd immediately started screaming.

She'd been chased away, chased by the two-leggers with their thundering sticks and their shouts. Chased away, never to return. A new family had taken over the nest. It was lost forever, and she had powered away, changing into a goose. Geese could fly for practically forever. As she flew over a river, a female goose from below cried out a greeting, giving her consolation for Alyda's grief. _"Find a new nest,"_ the goose told her. _"Nests can be rebuilt."_

_"What about hearts?_" Alyda asked silently as she flew on, over the trees, and turned south, unsure of where she would go but wanting to get as far away as possible from the call of her old nest. She knew her heart would heal again, eventually. That was the way things were. Bruises faded, cuts healed, scars faded. But the sorrow was etched deep within her heart, and she didn't think it would ever fade completely. _The sorrow never does fade completely,_ she thought gloomily. _It just hides in the back of your mind, ready to come out and swat you again._ She sighed.

_Ah well. I wonder what the ocean is like._

_Bayville, New York_

_Early September_

Alyda hurtled through the air, wobbling slightly on large, leathery wings that seemed almost too big for her small, scaled body. _I didn't know that I could do dragon shape,_ she thought joyfully as she careened through the cool, autumn air. The light breeze made her lose her balance and she sped out of the trees, toward a great building made almost entirely of metal. The sight made the joy that sang through her veins turn to terror as she realized that she was going too fast and was too out of control to turn.

Alyda began to panic. The wall was coming closer so fast; she barely had time to think. One thought blazed through and out of her mind as she rocketed toward the wall. (BIG METAL WALL PLUS SMALL DRAGON BODY EQUALS _OUCH!_) She screamed mentally as she curled into a ball, twisting so that she took the shock of the impact along her backside. It felt as if all the breath had been shoved from her lungs as pain exploded within her. Pain obscuring her thoughts, she managed to flare out her wings enough to slow her descent somewhat as she fell to the earth with a soft, "flump!"

Alyda didn't know how long she lay on the earth; eyes squeezed shut against the pain, stunned and breathing heavily to re-oxygenate her lungs. Her eyes flickered open as a tall shadow fell over her. A two-legger bent over her, concern shining in her large dark eyes. "Jean, come over here, quick! There's a dragon that's been hurt badly. At least, I think it's a dragon. I've never seen a lizard that could fly," Tara knelt beside Alyda's small form, excitement rising inside her. _A dragon! A real, live dragon!_ She could remember in third grade, with the Pruett's, when she would sit in the back of class and read library books under the desk, books with big colorful pictures of dragons and unicorns and mermaids.

Another taller figure bent down beside the other girl, stretching out a hand to touch Alyda's scales. Alyda gave a hiss, whipping her neck around to snap at the hand before the two-legger touched her. She could smell Jean's fear. The stench made her nervous. Her hiss turned to a high-pitched whine as pain shot through her body.

"It's hurt bad. I think this is what made the mind shout. Come Tara, we'll have to bring it inside. I think it ran into the wall."

"She's scared, Jean," the girl said softly, reaching out a hand and gently stroking Alyda's forehead scales. Jean watched in amazement. The dragon didn't attack Tara as it had her, but instead pressed it's head into her palm briefly with a small whistle.

"Do you think you can carry it?" Jean asked.

"Yeah, she weights practically nothing," Tara showed this by lifting the dragon, which was about the size of a large dog, into her arms. "And she's a her."

"Have you named her?" Jean asked with a smile, watching as Alyda turned her head to snort at her.

"No, of course not. She has her own name," Tara replied, all her attention on the creature in her arms. _It's like a fairy tale,_ she thought happily. _The dragon will get better, and then we'll go off and have adventures, just the two of us. I'll show her the river, and the forest, and we'll explore together._

Alyda didn't know why she was so quick to trust this two-legger. All she knew was that before this moment, she'd had an empty place inside her she hadn't known existed, and now it had been filled. Contentment filled her, driving away the fear that she may have seriously hurt herself and lost her flight. (I am Alyda) she whispered into the Tara's mind.

"My name is Tara," the girl whispered to the dragon in her arms. "I'll take good care of you."

"Set her down here," the Professor instructed his newest pupil as she entered with Jean. He pointed to a metal surgical table. "We'll have to take X-Rays, to make sure she didn't break anything by running into that wall."

Tara nodded, gently laying Alyda on the table. Alyda hissed slightly as the Professor came closer, a warning not to come any closer. A shiver rippled across her flanks. "I won't hurt you," he informed her matter-of-factly, "and you won't hurt me. This'll only take a moment." He made her lap up some liquid from the bottom of a pan as he wheeled around the table in his motor chair.

_At least I'm not the only one who talks to her as if she understands,_ Tara thought as she watched the Professor set up the X-Ray. "Now stay absolutely still for a moment," Professor Xavier cautioned as he lowered the X-Ray machine over Alyda, who followed his every movement with her large, liquid-like amber eyes.

After the X-Ray had been taken, Alyda laid her head on her front paws with a sigh. The initial pain was receding, leaving in its place a bone-deep ache. _Well, I'm not doing dragon form again for a long while,_ Alyda decided as drowsiness began to creep over her. _Shoot, dragons aren't supposed to exist!_ She watched as the Professor left, beckoning to Tara for her to come with him. As she saw them go safely out of sight and sound, she sat up and changed back to human. The room spun before her eyes and she felt her eyelids drooping. _What was in that liquid!_ She wondered as she slumped back down on the table and curled up, sound asleep.

"I gave her something for the pain," the Professor assured Tara as he led her to where they could look at the X-Rays. "The medicine will make her sleep. She needs her rest to recover. I also did not want her thrashing around and injuring herself worse, in the event that she was injured."

"Oh," Tara cast a glance back at the door and sighed. "She'll be okay, though, won't she? Will her back be okay?"

"I'm sure she'll be fine. In fact, she probably didn't break anything. If she'd hit any other way, she might have snapped her wing or broken a leg. She'll probably just have some massive bruises by tomorrow morning," the Professor snapped the X-Rays up against the light, examining them carefully. "Ye-es," he said slowly, "no broken bones."

"Good," Tara examined the X-Rays closely, eyes shining with interest. "So, this is a picture of Alyda's skeleton?"

The Professor chuckled. "Yes, it is." _She's named the creature already?_ He thought, looking at the girl beside him. _This little dragon might be good for her._ Tara's new fondness for the little creature wasn't unlike a little girl's attachment to a favorite puppy. His expression became thoughtful as he thought back to the mental screech he'd heard before Jean had called up to him to tell him that they'd found the owner of the voice. _I think this dragon is more that it looks,_ he thought as he turned his eyes back to the X-Rays. _Oh, yes, indeed._

Jean quietly pushed open the door to the examining room several hours later. She stopped dead at the sight of the girl on the table, clad in a worn t-shirt and overall shorts. Alyda's long, auburn hair was now so long it hung down past the seat of her pants. "This is no dragon," Jean murmured. She backed out the door and rushed to find the Professor.

Alyda stirred in her sleep. Her eyes fluttered open, and she sat up, wincing. She felt like somebody had been pounding her with mallets. Every inch of her body cried out with sore stiffness. She slid off the table with a small groan, falling to her hands and knees for a moment as her legs gave out.

She caught sight of her long hair trailing behind her and grimaced. Reaching back, she pulled it over her shoulder and began to comb her fingers through it to work out some of the snarls. Catching sight of the handle of a knife sitting on a table nearby, she picked it up and plunked herself back onto the table. Unsheathing the knife, she began to hack at her hair, cutting it roughly to just below her shoulders.

The Professor wheeled in, closely followed by Jean as she finished one half of her hair and started on the other. Alyda froze halfway through sawing through a particularly thick bunch of hair that she'd clenched tight in one fist and pulled tight. "Hello," the Professor said kindly. "May I ask your name?"

Alyda began to breathe again. Keeping one eye on the Professor, she returned to hacking at her hair. "Alyda," she told him shortly, eyes narrowed in a mixture of concentration and suspicion, concentration to keep from slicing her neck open and suspicion because of the two-leggers in front of her. _They helped me, though,_ she thought, eyeing them.

_They drugged you,_ part of her whispered. _They brought you in here and drugged you._

"What are you doing to your hair?" Jean asked, horrorstruck. She resisted the urge to pat her own fiery locks to comfort them at the blasphemy that was taking place in front of her.

"Cutting it," Alyda replied, eyes almost crossing with trying to look at the corner of her vision. She cut the last strand of hair and set the knife back into its sheath. Jumping down from the table, she limped over to the table to put the knife back.

"Sit back down," the Professor said kindly. "You must be in pain."

Alyda shrugged. She'd been in pain before. Likewise she would be again. She didn't need to be squeamish about it.

"Would you like to stay here?" the Professor asked her. "We can help you to gain control of your mutant powers."

Alyda stared at him for a moment, considering. His posture said that he told the truth, as did Jean's. "No," she told him softly. _I got them under control. I just have to work on my flying, _Alyda thought ruefully. A familiar stirring rose within her and her head turned, looking due south. _Time to go. Time to move on. Maybe I'll find a nest._

"Why not?" Jean asked. "You've got to be hurting from colliding with the Institute wall. Why not just stay here until you feel better."

"The Big Cold is coming," Alyda said slowly, her gaze fixing onto Jean. The calm, piercing stare was unnerving. "I should have left many suns before." _I'm not going to get very far like this, though,_ she thought; worry beginning to creep up on her. She hid her anxiety behind a poker-straight mask. Weariness rushed over her. _What _did_ they put in that liquid?_

"Winter here with us," Professor Xavier offered. "You can leave in the spring."

Alyda thought about the girl who'd helped her, Tara, and the people who'd chased her from her old home a few months before. "Why?"

"We just want to help you," Professor Xavier told her. "We train people to use their powers here. Children like you come here to learn to control their special talents."

"Okay," Alyda said slowly, eyeing him warily. _I'll stick around,_ she thought, _but one sign of trouble and I'm out of here!_

Professor Xavier smiled reassuringly at her. "You can share a room with Tara. She is our newest pupil," he chuckled as Alyda's eyes lit with recognition. "She was also the one who found you after your – accident."

Alyda snorted, but made no comment. "If you are hungry, dinner is being served in a few minutes," Jean informed her. When Alyda's stomach grumbled, Jean smiled. "Tara will show you where you'll be sleeping after dinner," Jean told the girl as she led her from the room. "We can also lend you some other clothes. You must be getting rather chilly in those."

"Oh," Alyda looked down at herself. The cold didn't bother her. "Okay."

Tara eyed her new roommate nervously as she led Alyda upstairs. Alyda hadn't spoken more than five words at dinner, one of those being her single-worded greeting. She'd smiled willingly enough, laughed quietly at the jokes that Kurt had made, but other than that, had just sat silently, face completely void of any emotion. Her nose had twitched when the food had come in. Jean had tried to involve her in the conversation, but Alyda had merely smiled, nodded, and answered with one word, three at most. Jean's frustration had been funny to watch, even as Tara had battled her disappointment. She had _really_ wanted a pet dragon.

Alyda looked up at Tara, expression inscrutable. Her face suddenly split into a smile. "Thanks for earlier."

"Oh, you're welcome," Tara replied as she flung open the door to her bedroom. She pointed to the bed closest to the window. "That bed's mine, but if you want it, I'll move."

"No, I'll have the other one," Alyda sat down on the window seat, looking out at the moon rising above the grounds. "The moon is bright tonight."

"Yeah," Tara sat down cross-legged on her bed. "At my old home, I used to drag my friend Kari outside after dark to watch it sparkle above the lake."

"I used to go watch the moon on the brook," Alyda watched as a moon moved in front of a cloud. "I'd bring my flute and play it all night long. Then mom-" she stopped for a moment, forcing herself to continue, "Mom would always wonder why I was so tired in the morning."

"I used to get headaches," Tara confessed. "The water helped ease them."

Alyda turned to look at Tara. The moonlight shone through her eyes, changing them from mostly green to mostly gold. "Let's go outside. It's peaceful out, with the crickets. We can watch it over the river."

Tara hesitated for a moment, and a broad grin spread across her face. "Okay," she levered open the window and stepped onto the sill. "You'll have to jump to this tree branch. Just watch me."

Alyda watched as Tara leapt out, grabbing the branch and holding onto it just long enough to steady her before she dropped down to the ground and rolled forward. _This'll be almost as fun as flying into that metal wall,_ Alyda thought as she climbed onto the sill while Tara whispered instructions from below. She very much doubted she wanted to start imitating tree monkeys right now, but it was too late to back down. The muscles of her back and arms screamed in protest as she leapt. The impact of the rough wood against her chest forced the air from her lungs. She clung there for a moment.

"Alyda, just let go and roll when you hit the ground," Tara whispered. "Hurry, before someone comes!"

Alyda closed her eyes with a prayer and released her grip on the wood. She rolled forward onto her hands and knees as she hit. "Wow," she gasped. "Wow. Next time I'm flying."

"Come on," Alyda could hear the grin in Tara's voice as her new friend tugged her to her feet. "It's this way."

The forest was dark and quiet. The moonlight painted everything in shades of white and black. It sparkled above the surface of the river. "Vesta, the guardian of the sacred flame, lives in these waters," Alyda announced softly to the night. She sensed rather than saw Tara turn her head to look at her. "I used to invent little stories, to keep me company."

"I used to imagine the water could speak," Tara smiled in the darkness, lying back against the soft grass. "Did you have any siblings?"

"No," Alyda squatted down beside a beech tree, plucking a few strands of grass and weaving them together. "I was an only child. My parents and I – we traveled a lot."

"Cool," Tara sighed, thinking how wonderful it would be to actually have a real family, one that loved her for who she was and didn't try to change her. One that was actually kind to her. _The X-Men are my family,_ she realized with a start, standing back up reluctantly. "We should head back, though. Just in case," she didn't add the shiver of fear that still went up her spine whenever she stood at this part of the river, remembering how Rob had come and nearly taken her away again. The Professor had said that his power over her had been broken, but she was never quite sure…

"Okay," Alyda got up reluctantly.

"How come you never talked so much at dinner?" Tara asked curiously as they wandered back up toward the mansion.

"I didn't have anything to say," Alyda answered as they neared the tree. She nearly groaned. "I'm not climbing this," she told Tara in a half-whisper. "I'll fall and break something if I do. I'm going to change."

"Into a dragon?" Tara asked excitedly.

"No, an owl," Alyda sailed in through the window, changing back.

"Alyda, there's nightgowns and stuff in the closet," Tara's voice echoed to her through the window. "You can pick out one to wear."

"Thanks," Alyda dug through the closet, coming out with a pair of pajama pants and top. She shrugged into them as Tara swung in through the open window. They were huge on her small frame. "You make that look so easy."

"I just practice a fair amount. It's a good stepping place for getting onto the roof," Tara explained as she levered the window shut and dug through the closet for her own pajamas. "I always have to be careful, though, in case Logan is listening."

"No two-legger could hear us from inside, unless they've got their own window open," Alyda flopped onto her bed, burrowing under the covers. Ah, the blessing of warm sheets…

"Well, they don't call him "Wolverine" for nothing," Tara said with a grin. "I swear, he hears just about _everything_! Every few months or so, he decides to take everybody off on a survival trip to the middle of nowhere. I've heard it's horrid." She switched off the light and clambered into bed. Alyda's eyes gleamed in the moonlight like that of a wolf's.

"Goodnight, Tara," Alyda sighed as she rolled over so that she was facing the window.

"Goodnight."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Alyda woke slowly, feeling as if every bone in her body had broken and been fused back together overnight. An alarm rang shrilly in the early morning, and Tara half fell out of bed in her haste to shut it up. Alyda sat up slowly, muscles screaming in protest. She gave a small moan. "Oh, I knew I'd be hurting today," she said quietly.

Tara looked over and blinked owlishly. "Better hurry," she advised her roommate. "Breakfast is at seven. We've only got fifteen minutes."

"Isn't it Saturday?" Alyda asked, gingerly climbing out of bed. She tentatively rolled her arms around, to try to loosen her tight muscles.

"Yeah, it is," Tara, replied, digging clothes from the closet. "Here, you can borrow these. I've got training in the danger room, plus just learning how to control my powers," she grimaced. "Rogue calls it Control 101."

"I'll probably practice flying," Alyda thought out loud, voice regretful. "Or it'll probably be more like practicing emergency landing, being as I still haven't gotten the hang of landing yet."

"Doesn't your back still hurt?"

"Yeah, but I've got to keep working. If I don't, I'll just stiffen up," Alyda swung her arms faster as her muscles warmed up and loosened. Her back throbbed painfully, but she knew that it was her arms she needed for flying. _My back'll probably hurt for the next few weeks, anyway. I hope I didn't seriously hurt myself._ She peeked at her back as she changed, and winced. It was mottled with black and blue bruises. _What'll I do if I sprained a vertebrate or something? I can't stay here forever._ She straightened her shirt, running her fingers through her short auburn hair to get the worst of the tangles out.

"Want me to straighten that for you?" Tara asked a pair of scissors in her hands. "You got it all uneven."

"Okay," Alyda turned around so that Tara could reach her hair with the scissors. She felt a stab of fear. _Two-legger, behind me, cutting my hair! Okay, breathe. She's not going to hurt me. Be strong. Fear attracts the fearful._ She didn't let her facial expressions change, controlling her breathing automatically. Wolves and other predators could smell fear.

"There," Tara handed Alyda a brush and began to drag a comb through her own curly dark hair. "What did you do, hack at it with a knife?"

"Yup."

Professor Xavier looked up as they entered the kitchen. He was seated at the end of a table, eating a bowl of cereal. "Good morning, Tara, Alyda," he greeted them with a smile. Tara grinned at him.

"Good morning," she grabbed two bowls and handed one to Alyda.

"Heyla," Alyda took the bowl with mumbled thanks. Something made her look up in time to see what looked like a blue, fuzzy elf, appear out of nowhere. She jumped backward with a slight hiss of fright as another girl walked through the wall to get to the kitchen. _Where are all these two-leggers _coming_ from?_

"Here's some cereal," Tara shoved the box in front of Alyda's bowl, jerking her back to the present. "I'll get the milk."

Alyda looked down at the box. _Cheerios,_ she thought. _I haven't had those in a long time._ She poured herself a bowlful and splashed milk over them. Sitting down, she looked up at Tara. "Forget something?" Tara asked with a smile, handing her a spoon.

"What? Oh," she looked at it, feeling the slight weight of the metal in her palm. "Yeah," she muttered, wrapping her fingers around the cool surface and feeling the way the grooves fit into her palm. _Wow, it fits,_ she thought, opening her hand again to stare at it. Tara giggled.

"It's just a spoon," she dug into her own bowl of cheerios, eyes dancing happily. Alyda nodded, bending over her own breakfast.

"Tara, I'd like to see you and Alyda in my office after you are finished eating," the Professor informed them as he wheeled his bowl over to the sink.

Tara went pale as he wheeled out of the room, and let her spoon fall to her bowl with a clatter. She pushed it away from her. "I'm not hungry anymore."

"Eat," Alyda said gruffly as she shoved Tara's bowl back in front of her. "You'll be glad of it later. Don't go without breakfast."

Tara picked at her food as Alyda wolfed down the rest of hers. She carried her bowl to the sink, watching out of the corner of her eye as Tara dumped the rest of her cheerios in the garbage, but didn't make any comment. "Come on," Tara opened the door, almost bumping into Rogue and Jean. "Sorry," she skirted around them, Alyda trailing after her. "I hope we're not in too much trouble."

"For going out after dark? Would he even know?"

"The Professor knows _everything_ that goes on in the school," Tara said, stomach plummeting. _What if he decides I can't stay here anymore? I actually want to stay this time._ She sighed heavily. _At least I'll get to see Kari again._

"Ah well," Alyda took three steps to every one of Tara's, but still was able to walk evenly with her. "It was worth it."

Tara stopped to gape at Alyda. "Worth it?" she asked, her voice a squeak. "We might be in big trouble! What if he decides to…" her voice trailed off, but she had a sudden image of the Pruett's. They had been fond of capital punishment.

"If he hurts me, I'll leave," Alyda shrugged as she felt uneasiness stir within her. _Oh, Tara, do you really mean he'll send you away just for going out at night? You've got to be kidding, he can't be that mean. Oh, darn these two-leggers – so unpredictable. _"No big deal. I was going to head south anyway," she eyed Tara for a moment. "You could come too."

"I don't want to leave," Tara said, head drooping. "I was beginning to like it here."

Alyda felt a surge of sympathy. She awkwardly patted Tara's shoulder, although she nearly had to stand on her tiptoes to do it. "I'm sure he won't chuck you out of the nest," she assured her friend. "Not if you aren't ready to fly yet."

By now they were at the Professor's door. Tara swallowed hard, face still pale, and raised a hand to knock. "Enter," a voice called from behind the door before her hand touched the wood. Alyda raised an eyebrow. _Weird. Tara didn't even knock._

Tara pressed her palms flat against the door, pushing it open. It moved soundlessly on well-oiled hinges, and swung shut just as quietly behind them. Professor Xavier was waiting behind his desk, resting his chin on steepled fingers. "What were you doing outside at 11:00 last night?"

"We were down by the river, sir," Tara answered nervously, shifting from foot to foot. _Oh dear, please don't send me away! I'll be better, I promise!_

Alyda eyed her friend and looked straight at the Professor. She stepped forward so that she was right beside Tara, who towered over her. "It was my idea," she informed the Professor. Tara looked down at her, startled, and Alyda sent her a look, which plainly said, "Keep your mouth shut." _Do you really think that you can lie to the Professor?_ Tara wondered at Alyda.

"All the same, Tara, I would think you would want to keep inside after dark, what with a certain Mr. Wellington still at large."

Alyda seemed to grow for a moment, looking older than her own 14 years. "Nobody's going to hurt Tara while I'm around," she stated in a near growl. _Nobody's hurting my wing-sib,_ she thought. If she had been a wolf, she would have been snarling.

"And how would that be?" Tara asked miserably. "Seems to me he'd probably just trample the both of us."

"I have my ways," Alyda remarked. For a moment she looked quite fierce. _I'll take good care of you;_ she tried to tell Tara silently. _I won't let any Wellington get to you._

"Just be more careful," Xavier told Tara.

"Yes, Professor."

"Go get changed for training. I need a word with Alyda." Alyda looked up at Professor Xavier as her stomach twisted slightly. _I don't like this two-legger,_ she thought quietly. _Maybe I should just head south anyway. I liked the ocean – maybe I'll go to Florida._ Another thought occurred to her. _Why stay in the U.S.? It's not like I need a passport. I wonder what the Caribbean is like. Or Africa?_ She felt the wandering blood in her stir, making her feel restless and itchy.

"While you are staying here for the winter, would you like to attend the local high school? I can enroll you if you would like to go."

Alyda frowned. _High school? Go to where a whole bunch of two-legger children can gawk at me all day long? I think not._ "No thank you," she said stiffly.

"I will ask Beast to teach you in the afternoons. It will help you after you leave," he informed her, and she nodded reluctantly. _Teach me what? I did fine before._

_Yeah, when you weren't forgetting who you were;_ part of her hissed back

_I'll remember,_ she replied silently, although she wasn't very confident.

"There are two training sessions a day, one in the morning before school and one after everyone gets home. You may join them if you wish."

"Okay," she shrugged. _What kind of training?_ "What do you do?"

"The young mutants practice using their powers for good, so that they can be prepared to help others in case of an emergency. I probably don't have to warn you that most humans aren't ready to accept the fact that we exist."

She frowned, remembering how the two-leggers had chased her from her old nest. "No," she said quietly. "You don't."

"That is all," Professor Xavier steepled his hands again. "You may go." Alyda nodded to him and turned, pushing the door open just enough to allow her to slip through. She absently rubbed her side as she let it swing closed behind her.

Tara walked slowly out onto the surface of the swimming pool, holding tightly onto Jean's hand to keep her teacher out of the water. "Jean, I'm not sure I can do this," she said quietly, teeth gritted with the effort of keeping the surface of the water solid. _Oh dear, what will she do if I drop her?_ She could almost feel her control over the water slipping from her grasp and clutched tighter. She looked up at Alyda hurtled past, dragon wings flapping furiously to try to keep steady.

"Mind on task, Tara," Jean rebuked gently. "And don't worry about dropping me. Just concentrate on keeping the water solid, okay?"

"Yes'm."

Alyda landed hard on the ground and began flapping her wings experimentally. Tara bit back a giggle as she heard Alyda's disgruntled mind voice echoing inside her head. (Darn wings. Why can't they be more like gryphon wings? Then I wouldn't fly into so many trees!) Tara eyed Jean, but Jean didn't appear to have heard anything. _Must have imagined it,_ she decided.

A herd of geese flew by overhead, and Alyda felt something stir within her. Her head whipped up, following the geese's steady progress due south. Alyda took off again as a strong breeze rippled through. To keep from colliding with the nearest tree, Alyda quickly flipped into a Canadian goose and stabilized, landing safely on a tree branch. The instinct of wild birds to migrate hit her like a cannonball.

Tara looked up, shocked, as she saw Alyda hurtle by overhead. "Alyda, wait!" she yelled, releasing her hold on Jean and the water she'd been suspending around her. Jean used her telekinesis to keep herself from dropping. Alyda swerved around, diving back down to land beside the waters edge, transforming to human.

"Change of plans," she managed to gasp out. "I'm heading south after all. Bye."

"But, why?" Tara asked a feeling of hurt coursing through her. _She's leaving me. Oh, why can't she stay? It would have been so nice, almost like having Kari back again._

"Um," Alyda's eyes wandered to the rapidly retreating geese. "Just because," she managed.

"Why can't you just stay for the winter?" Tara felt like her heart was breaking. Loneliness coursed through her. Alyda was one of the only friends she'd made at the academy. _Kitty's nice, and Jean is too, but it's just not the same,_ she thought glumly. _Rogue is – well, she's untouchable. You don't bug her and she won't bite your head off._

For a moment, Alyda seemed to hesitate. The geese traveling song faded from the air around her and she seemed to come back to herself. _What was I doing? I was just about to fly _south!"I am such an idiot!" she suddenly burst out. "It's the song!" _The geese were singing! It's the flock-song to fly south – I've got to keep away from bird morphs. Joy, now I can't turn into a bird for the rest of the winter._ She got up and began to run, into the woods.

"Wait! Alyda, are you leaving?"

"No!" her shout reverberated back to Tara as Alyda turned and raced along the edge of the woods toward the mansion.

"Yay!" Tara gave a shout of glee and fell back into the water with an immense splash.

Professor Xavier examined the girl who stood rather nervously in front of him. "I just…started flying. South," Alyda finished. All the strength seemed to have left her. She hurt so badly throughout her back and side, and the loss of her ability to transform into other creatures meant that she would be stuck, unable to travel anywhere for the next few months.

"But you did not get the sudden urge to fly south while in dragon shape?" the Professor asked.

"No," she answered miserably. "Luckily for me. I probably would have flown into the mansion wall again. I _still_ haven't got my turns down yet."

Professor Xavier steepled his fingers - again. _What is it with teachers and steepling their fingers?_ Alyda wondered. _It's like every time I'm in here he's steepling his fingers!_ "When you transform into regular animals – birds, ducks, the like – you get their instincts, do you not?"

"Yeah. That's what makes mythical creatures so hard. I _don't_ have their instincts."

"Then you should be fine while in the shape of mythical creatures. My offer still stands – with an exception. You can stay here, gain control over your gifts, and attend Bayville High School, if you so choose."

Alyda turned this over in her mind. _What exception?_ "What's the catch?" she asked quietly. Her voice was almost a growl. _He's going to dump something on me; I just know it. I'm going to be stuck here…_

"I will help you control your gifts if – and only if - you go to school." He smiled gently at her, knowing he had her there. She couldn't refuse.

Alyda bristled. _You should feel lucky that I'm not going to do what I want to and wring that shiny, bald head of yours right off your neck!_ She thought, eyes narrowing. _I have nowhere else to go, and you know that! Trickster! Darn two-legger!_ She imagined how nice it would be to smack him with the flat of her palm, hard. "Fine," she snapped. "I'll stay." Her hands balled themselves into fists as she fought to keep her face straight. Her eyes burned with her fury. _Idiotic grek'ka'shen!_

"It could be that if you learned to shield your mind from that of the animals you transform into, you'll be able to morph other creatures without becoming overwhelmed again," Xavier gave her a kind smile, ignoring the fact that she was just about ready to snap him in half, she was so irked. "And I'm sure that Tara will be overjoyed that you have decided to stick around. I imagine you gave her quite a scare."

The girl in question was at the moment wringing water from her clothes, shivered in the cold autumn breeze. "Let's go inside," Jean called to her pupil. "You'll catch your death of cold if you don't get into some warm clothes."

"Okay," Tara wrapped a large towel around her self and hurried after Jean toward the mansion, apprehensively glancing up at her bedroom window, through which she could just barely make out Alyda's tiny form watching through the window. _Oh, please let her stay,_ she pleaded.

She heard a chuckling mind voice in her head. (Don't worry, I'm staying. I've effectively gotten my feathers clipped.) Tara bit back a grin. _She's staying!_ She exclaimed excitedly in her mind. _Yay! She's staying, she's staying, she's staying!_ She repeated the two words over and over in a kind of joyful song. _Oh, happy people!_

_

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_Like it? Hate it? Review and tell me what you think.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Alyda stood next to Professor Xavier, trying not to glower as she so longed to do. "Everybody, I'd like you to meet a new student," he announced to the suddenly quiet room, which was packed with people. Jean gave one boy a stern look as he made a dancer of ice that floated around in his palm. "This is Alyda Joasha."

_Grrr… _ Alyda gave the Professor a thinly veiled look that was almost a glare. _ If I hadn't run into your wall, I'd be long gone by now,_ she thought at him. _Darn wall._

The Professor glanced at her and his lips twitched as he held back a smile. "Tara, would you like to give Alyda a tour of the mansion?"

"Sure," Tara was grinning openly, her spirits higher than they'd been in a long time. "I'd be glad to." Alyda met her eyes and for a moment an answering smile spread across the tiny girl's face. "It's a good thing I'm staying," Alyda, said quietly, "I've got to keep you out of trouble."

"Trouble? Me? I don't even know the _meaning_ of the word. Now, you on the other hand, you I'll have to look out for."

Alyda bit back a chuckle before wiping the smile from her face and staring around at the other people in the room impassively. Logan and Ororo exchanged glances at the change in Tara's attitude. They'd never seen her smile so freely before.

"Come on, slowpoke," Tara stepped forward, grabbing Alyda's hand and tugging her to the back of the room. "I'll introduce you." Professor Xavier watched them go with a smile. Ororo came over to stand by his chair.

"Alyda should be good for Tara," she said quietly, watching the duo. It was an odd pair, to say the least. Tara towered over Alyda's four feet and 10 inches from her own six feet. Whereas Tara's skin was pale, and her hair a mop of wiry dark tresses, Alyda was tiny, and dainty, with skin tanned by the hot summer sun and wavy auburn hair that was cut off at her shoulders. While Tara had attempted to salvage it after Alyda's hack-job, it still hung slightly uneven in places.

"I'm thinking that Tara will be good for Alyda," the Professor replied smoothly, steepling his fingers and resting his chin on them as he watched Tara introducing Alyda to Kitty and Rogue. "Although the opposite will doubtless be true."

"I've never seen Tara be so open with anyone," Ororo smiled softly. "Although Alyda seems to have something against you already."

"She's annoyed that I'm making her attend High School," the Professor commented. "I made a deal with her – I'd help her control her gift if she would attend school. She was just about ready to strangle me."

Logan chuckled quietly. "Hard to imagine that one strangling anything larger than a shrew," he commented.

"Oh, you'd be surprised. She can be quite fierce."

The girl in question turned, looking straight at the Professor and scowled blackly. Tara tugged on her sleeve, and she turned back, eyes lightening. "Oh, yes, I'd certainly say you've piqued the kid," Logan chuckled.

"Alyda, what did you mean about the Professor clipping your wings?" Tara asked as they slipped out of the room, unnoticed by any but the Professor, five minutes later.

_Ah, finally out in the air! How can those two-leggers stand to be so packed together?_ "I can't change into any real animals without transforming into 'psycho, must fly south,' hawk. And, well, running into that wall just once was enough for me," her voice was wry. "It was almost as bad as when I first did gryphon, only at least when I was a gryphon, I wasn't trying to run into things."

"You can change into a gryphon?" Tara asked eagerly. "I can do stuff with water," she held out a hand and frowned in concentration, and a small puddle of water gathered in her palm. "See?"

"That's neat! I bet you'll never get thirsty," Alyda grinned.

"Water, water, everywhere, and not a drop to drink," Tara quoted. "I don't remember where I heard it, but it's from when these people were in the Ocean. They'd run out of water, but they couldn't drink the seawater because it would make them even more thirsty."

"Seawater doesn't taste good anyway," Alyda commented absently. "Trust me, there's nothing that tastes as bad as seawater," she sighed. "The Professor is making me go to Bayville High School."

"That's great! I go there, too! Maybe we'll have the same classes."

"Tara, I haven't been in school for an entire year. Besides, back home – I was home schooled. I don't remember any of my lessons."

"Don't worry," Tara assured her friend. "I'll help you catch up. Here, I'll quickly give you the tour, and then we can go back up to my room and I'll catch you up on everything that we've learned so far."

"Okay," Alyda sighed, Tara's enthusiasm just making her feel worse. _ I have a very bad feeling about this._

Alyda looked over her schedule in a corner by the girl's bathroom, trying to avoid being trampled by what seemed half the population of Idaho who were trying to get to their classes. She looked up as Tara hurried over. "Alyda, I found your locker. Come on," Alyda hesitated for a moment before diving into the mob after Tara. _ Oh, dragon's dung! Why did I _ ever_ agree to this?_

"Come on, hurry up or you'll be late."

_Oh, how encouraging. Great, now I just have to become used to this absolutely horrifyingly large two-legger school, keep from being trampled, and find my way to my classes on time, all at once! I'm not a miracle worker, people!_ The Professor had somehow managed to convince the Principal, a man called Kelley, to arrange her schedule so that she had all her classes with Tara. The hair on the back of her neck rose as she noticed how Principal Kelley's eyes followed them down the hall.

"Don't mind him," Tara told her reassuringly. "He's just not very fond of our kind – you know, mutants."

(He's watching us,) she half-whispered into Tara's mind. (Like a cougar, watching his prey as they live their happy little lives, just waiting for the right time to pounce!)

"Alyda, he wouldn't do that. I'm not saying he wouldn't want to, but he couldn't. He'd get put in jail, and he'd rather eat pond scum that be put in jail because of us." Her voice was bitter. _Yeah, instead he'd probably hire somebody else to do the dirty work for him._

Alyda glanced at the Principal from the corner of her eye and shivered. As far as she was concerned, he still reminded her of a predator. _ I better keep my eye on him,_ she decided. _I don't want to end up as somebody's lunch._ A memory rose unbidden, from one of her first nights in California.

_Darkness, all around, so completely dark it pressed upon the eyeballs. If she'd waved a hand in front of her face she wouldn't be able to tell until she bonked herself on the nose. The scream echoed through the distant trees, like that of a woman's terrorized cry. Alyda shivered, pressing back against the smooth rock of the cave in which she was hid. And as she sat there, shivering with a mixture of cold and fright, she realized that she was so alone that should the cougar find her, nobody would even hear her scream…_

"Alyda!" Tara tugged on her friends arm to get her moving again. "Come on!" Alyda started and blinked, the memory fading. _It was so real._

Alyda looked around the packed cafeteria. In a corner, Kurt was sitting down at a table with another girl whom Tara had informed her - blush, giggle, and all - was Amanda, Kurt's girlfriend. The hair rose along the back of her neck, and goose bumps spread along her arms. _ There's too many of them,_ she thought, stomach beginning to prickle with the beginning of fear. For a moment she wished she had some dark, quiet place where she could just go and hide.

Several people brushed by her, knocking her into Tara. She bristled, shooting black looks at their retreating backs. _No manners,_ she thought savagely as Tara tugged her toward Kurt's table. _Darn these two-leggers! I don't see how I let the Professor talk me into this. This is madness!_ Alyda caught her breath as she found herself wedged between two people and froze. She felt a slight tickle along her arms and looking down, saw to her horror that feathers were beginning to sprout underneath her shirt. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath.

_Come on; control yourself. You can do it. Deep breath. _ She bit her lip as the feathers continued to spread. Now they were beginning to stick out her sleeves, and she could feel them spreading along her back and stomach. (Tara, get me out of here!) She yelped silently. Tara turned, startled, to look at her friend.

"We're almost there."

"There's – there's too many of them!" Alyda was ashamed of the fear that was creeping into her speech. "Help me, please!"

Tara caught her friend's anxiety and gripped her arm tightly, pulling her through the crowd. A couple people called after them, irritated, as they shoved through, and one boy gave them the finger behind their backs. _You too,_ Tara thought, grimacing. After what seemed like ages to Alyda, they were out in the open air of the parking lot. She slumped against a wall, shaking, as the feathers retracted.

"Tara, I-I'm not hungry," she couldn't keep her voice from shaking. "You go on and eat. I'll just sit here," she plopped down on the ground and tilted her head back with a sigh, letting her eyes close for a moment with a feeling of déjà vu.

"No, you've got to eat," Tara looked back at the cafeteria. "I'll bring you something back. Trust me; you'll be just about dead by last period of you don't."

"Fine," Alyda muttered, realizing that this was just about what she'd told Tara just yesterday. _Why do all my arguments have to come back to haunt me?_

_That wasn't really an argument,_ part of her replied. _More like a suggestion._ Alyda snorted and closed her eyes again. If she tried, she could imagine that she was curled up someplace cool and safe, in some dark corner. She nearly groaned as she heard footsteps. She knew instinctively that it wasn't Tara coming back with lunch.

"Hey, don't-you-know-you're-not-supposed-to-take-naps-here? Somebody-may-trip-over-you! Not-that-there's-much-to-trip-over."

Alyda opened her eyes and glared at the boy in front of her. He was tall, with silver hair that he'd slicked back with massive amounts of hair gel. He reminded her of a snake, and she felt the hair on the back of her neck rise with her temper as his words sank in.

"Yeah, -I-mean, you'd-have-to-be-really-aiming-to-trip-over-you, you're-so-short. Gosh, do-you-have-to-wear-stilts-to-be-seen-over-a-counter? Or-do-you-just-shout-really-loud? What, cat-got-your-tongue?"

_Snake!_ Alyda pictured herself squashing a creature that looked remarkably like this boy, as she began to hiss under her breath. _Idiot boy! I wonder if I should trample him. You don't wait for snakes to bite you; you crush them before they can get you._

"I-bet-there's-not-much-to-get, anyway."

Alyda let out a growl of fury as she leapt to her feet, practically spitting with rage as she began to transform into a gryphon: a very large, very angry gryphon. The boy grew very pale, or paler than he was before. "Sorry, boss-lady. I-didn't- know-it-was- you!" he burst out; looking scared.

"I don't know what it is you're talking about," Alyda gritted out, transforming back just enough to allow herself the ability to speak, "but I'm not too sure all those massive amounts of hair gel didn't permanently injure your brain. Did it soak into your skull, or are you normally this thick? Did you have to rehearse those insults beforehand? Well, I'll tell you one thing, _snake-"_

"Alyda, no!" Tara came running out of the cafeteria as Alyda changed back into a full gryphon. Alyda was so angry; she looked as if she were about to rip the boy limb from limb. "Alyda, change back, NOW!" She grabbed Alyda's head, yanking it down to stare into the deep dark eyes. "Hurry!"

Alyda's only response was a hiss directed at the boy, who was now looking gleeful. "So-you-aren't-the-boss-lady? Ha!"

"Come on, Alyda, you'll get expelled, and you'll get me expelled too. And then the Professor will send me back, and I don't want to go back to the orphanage. It'd be nice to see Kari again, but I _like_ it here!" _For once,_ she thought, making Alyda look into her eyes. "Please, Alyda?"

Alyda gave an immense sigh and began to morph back into her human form. "Um, sorry about that," Tara told the boy, looking nervous. "Um, I guess we all got off on the wrong foot. I'm Tara, and this is Alyda. Alyda this is, um," she hesitated, looking up at the boy expectantly. _He's kinda cute,_ she thought absently.

"Pietro. You're-with-the-X-geeks?"

Alyda gave a ferocious snarl and leapt at Pietro, transforming totally into gryphon. Her feathers seemed to melt away and were replaced by light blue scales that glittered in the noonday sun. Alyda was so filled with wrath, she didn't notice. Tara gaped, horrorstruck, as Pietro seemed to vanish right from under her outstretched talons. Alyda was so angry, she was just about ready to rend him limb from limb, tear his head from his body, and scratch out his eyeballs. (Tara, run! That way you won't get into trouble.)

"He's gone now. Can't you just drop it?" _Oh, please, Alyda! He's only a boy, for Pete's sake! Maybe an incredibly, annoying, cute one, but he isn't worth the bother._

(Fine.) Alyda changed back and swayed slightly, leaning against the wall. It was as if something had sucked away her energy, leaving her bone weary. Tara sighed, looking down at the two lunch trays she'd left on the ground.

"Well, might as well eat up. We've got gym next," she grimaced. "Oh well," she pushed Alyda's tray toward her and sat down with her back to wall. "I hope nobody saw that."

"Famous last words," Alyda muttered as Jean whipped around the corner.

"Alyda! Didn't the Professor tell you _not_ to use your powers in school…"

"Oh, we are in _such_ trouble," Tara moaned. "We're going to be grounded for life."

"That's rather drastic, don't you think?" Alyda asked back, making Tara crack a small smile. "Well, it is. You figure, we're not going to be here for our entire life, so there's no way he can ground us for life."

"Unless he has clones! And-"

"Alyda, are you listening to me?"

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